


Breaking Point

by mag_lex



Series: Prompts [7]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Bottom!Doctor, F/F, Mentions of Master (Dhawan), Smut, Spyfall Spoilers, dark!Doctor, soft, top!Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22084117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_lex/pseuds/mag_lex
Summary: Yaz and the Doctor reconnect after the events of Spyfall.(Spoilers! Please don't read if you haven't watched).
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Series: Prompts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1428970
Comments: 44
Kudos: 238





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Now updated this to include a second chapter! 
> 
> First chapter is an amalgamation of prompts - a bit of dark!doctor, but with a bit of angst thrown in from Yaz's perspective, written after part 1 aired. 
> 
> Second chapter is not a prompt as such, just my way of dealing with what happened in part 2. If you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Nobody spoke. Not even Graham, who looked like he’d aged five years in the space of 48 hours. At least, Yaz thought it had been that long; in reality, she had no grasp of how long had passed since they’d last seen the TARDIS but the sight of it was a welcome and much-needed sign of something recognisable. Even the woman she was walking beside seemed a little different, a little more obscure than before. 

The Doctor’s head was bowed and Yaz could practically feel the tension emanating from her. Her hands were shoved into her pockets - the Doctor’s way of keeping them still - and her mouth was firmly closed but there was a sense of something bubbling away beneath the surface, like someone had taken a fizzy drink and shaken it, waiting for it to explode. The Doctor always had that kind of energy about her but now that the patina had been scraped away, Yaz had a much better understanding of just how little she understood the woman beside her. 

Thinking back on it, Yaz realised she’d been awfully naive with her infatuation. She’d potentially sacrificed a budding career to travel with the Doctor, even claiming she was the best person she’d ever met within mere days of meeting her. It made her cringe a bit to think about it but at the time it had been true, and when Yaz cautiously examined her feelings for the Doctor, poked and prodded them in light of everything she now knew, they remained the same, much to her relief. Yaz clung to those feelings like a lifeline because despite all that had happened, despite the glimpses into the Doctor’s past that she’d known nothing of, Yaz at least knew her feelings true: they were her feelings and hers alone, and although she might need to revise her opinion on a few things, her love for the Doctor remained the same.

The TARDIS welcomed them in like long-lost travellers, which Yaz supposed they were. The Doctor didn’t even need to use her key. The last time they’d been in here had been when Yaz had materialised in Australia, flung into a box like a lost toy that the Doctor could only try to reach through the glass. When they’d finally got some time alone together, all Yaz could do was ask for the Doctor to hold her. They’d found a room on the TARDIS - Yaz didn’t care where they went, only for the simple comfort of a cuddle - and the Doctor had held onto her tight, talking to her as they tried to understand what had happened. Yaz had been so certain that she’d actually died when she’d been taken - after all, it had been so sudden, so brutally cruel and thoughtless - that the chill of that awful place had sunk into her bones, lingering there ever since. 

Learning that the Doctor had also ended up there had been a shock and yet Yaz knew that wasn’t why she was being so quiet. While her experiences of that awful realm had left her reeling, the Doctor had seemed to take them in her stride. It was the kind of resilience borne of necessity and Yaz felt her heart ache a little for the Doctor as she watched her move around the console. She supposed the discovery of who O really was made all other issues seem like mere trifles. The memory of way the Doctor had reacted on the plane still haunted Yaz’s thoughts; she was more than a little apprehensive of what was to come now that she knew such a person existed, especially considering the Doctor’s emotive reaction to him.

The Doctor moved to the lever and when she finally spoke, her voice sounded hollow, devoid of any of her usual enthusiasm. 

“I’m taking you home.”

The mention of the word filled Yaz’s chest with much-needed reassurance. _Home_. It was all she wanted, somewhere safe and loving and warm. Although part of her home was here, with the Doctor, she really needed to see her family again after too many close calls with death. The thought of never seeing her mum again pained her so much that it ached. She’d also been sure she’d never see the Doctor again after the incident on the plane. Yaz was torn between where to go and what to do.

The response from the others was more muted. Graham nodded without a word and Ryan eased himself onto a step, looking sombre. None of them spoke during the flight and the Doctor deliberately avoided making eye contact with Yaz, which stung. In fact, she barely seemed to acknowledge that she was there. Yaz felt her heart sink. She was exhausted and in need of comfort that the Doctor didn’t seem ready to provide. But then, who was she to expect it? Yaz sighed, reasoning that if the Doctor wasn’t going to speak to her then there wasn’t much she could do to force it. She resigned herself to that fact, chalking it up to experience. She’d know better next time. She’d go back to her family. At least she had them. 

But the Doctor was still full of surprises. Once they’d landed, Yaz had nearly followed the boys out of the doors when the Doctor finally addressed her. 

“Not you, Yaz. Stay a minute.”

The Doctor still wouldn’t look at her but Yaz stopped anyway, wondering what she was thinking. She’d thought she’d had a handle on the Doctor, some insight into how she worked, but she’d been completely wrong. Right now, the Doctor was a blank slate and her face was also proving hard to read. Yaz felt her thoughts start to spiral. Had her persona been a lie? Was this what she was like? What was the mask, and what was real? Because there certainly had been some element of concealment. Yaz wondered who the Doctor had been trying to protect, and what else she’d been trying to hide. 

The Doctor reached past her, her body passing so tantalisingly close, but she was simply reaching for the door to close it. Yaz held her breath at her proximity; she could smell smoke on the Doctor’s tux, a reminder of where she’d been, how much danger she'd been in. 

Then she was being slammed back against the door with a solid thump that reverberated through her entire body and the Doctor was kissing her, her lips pressed firmly against Yaz’s in a way that was both comforting and unfamiliar. Yaz grabbed onto the Doctor’s jacket, anchoring herself as the Doctor pushed her firmly back against the door, her tongue demanding entry to Yaz’s mouth, which she offered willingly. She’d been so worried that the Doctor didn’t want her that this very obvious indication of the contrary was a relief, but there was something different this time. Desperation or uncertainty or something else entirely, Yaz couldn’t be sure. 

Cool fingers were scrambling at her shirt and normally Yaz would squirm a little. The Doctor’s skin was always cool to the touch - Yaz always complained about her cold hands - but she felt numb, leached of life. She needed the Doctor to make her feel alive again and she moaned as the Doctor’s mouth deprived her of the oxygen she so desperately needed. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” the Doctor breathed, pulling away briefly to finally look into Yaz’s eyes. Her expression was changed, now, not blank; Yaz tried not to look away at the blunt honesty she saw painted there. In turn, she tried to be equally honest, letting her true feelings shine through as best she could. She normally did that with the Doctor; she saw no need for walls, normally. But now it was a conscious effort, exposing herself so willingly again.

“You’re not the only one,” Yaz replied, and then the Doctor’s hands were on her arms, holding tight enough to bruise. Yaz knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t hurt her - at least, she thought she did - but the Doctor was being far less gentle than she usually would be. And going from the heat pooling between her legs at that point in time, Yaz apparently found it as arousing as she did shocking. 

Soft lips descended on her own once more and Yaz capitulated readily, letting the Doctor take control. A leg slid between her own, a thigh pressing up and against the crotch of her trousers and she moaned into a kiss that had become so heated she could barely remember her own name. A hand slid into the hair at the back of her head and fingers tangled in it, tugging slightly to expose her neck and the Doctor’s mouth covered the skin there as soon as it was exposed. The edge of teeth against her jugular felt dangerous but reminded Yaz that she was, in fact, alive; she could feel again, and she wanted to feel more. 

"Stop messing,” she moaned, squeezing her legs together to increase the pressure between them. 

“I’m not,” the Doctor replied, deadly serious. As if to prove her point she let go of Yaz’s hair, sliding both hands under Yaz’s shirt instead and grabbing hold of her breasts, massaging them through the material of her bra. Yaz knew the Doctor was strong but she’d clearly held back until now because her movements were not only confident but borderline rough. And it worked; Yaz could feel her nipples harden instantly and then cool hands were pushing her bra up entirely, thumbs and fingers tweaking her nipples none-too-gently as the Doctor kissed the life out of her. 

“Fuck,” Yaz gasped, tearing her mouth away to gulp in air. “You need to fuck me.”

The Doctor didn’t hesitate and while Yaz mourned the loss of her hands she knew they’d moved onto better things when she felt the button of her jeans being undone, nimble fingers undoing the zipper of her jeans and tugging them down a few inches. She expected to feel them being removed entirely but the Doctor surprised her again, bluntly sliding her hand into her underwear and straight into her wet heat. Her legs were effectively trapped, as was the rest of her body, pinned to the door by the weight of the Doctor’s own as she slicked her fingers and briefly circled her clit in an almost perfunctory manner. 

Yaz barely had a moment to collect herself before the Doctor was doing just what she’d asked for, penetrating her with two fingers and no warning. Yaz gasped at the sudden stretch; she was wet and more than ready to have the Doctor inside her but something about the way she had just shoved inside took her breath away and the edge of pain that accompanied her fingers was new. But it wasn’t unwelcome; if anything, the discomfort reminded her she was actually alive. Her hands clasped the Doctor’s back as she started to move, thrusting inside at a steady pace. Yaz knew it wouldn’t take long and did her best to hold on for the ride, her head thumping off the door as the Doctor pumped her fingers in a way she knew would make her come. 

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” the Doctor murmured and Yaz opened her eyes to see her watching her, expression stony. Her eyes were dark, cheeks flushed, and her earring glinted in the light; all signs of the Doctor she knew and loved but here was yet another side that Yaz had yet to discover. The smile that appeared next was new, too, and the flash of teeth that came with it made Yaz close her eyes again, focusing on the sensations between her legs instead. She didn’t want to think too closely about what they were doing, or why they were doing it; she just wanted to feel. The Doctor’s thumb moved up to pass over her clit, pressing down with every thrust, and Yaz felt her legs wobble as the pleasure escalated. That, she could deal with. 

“Harder,” she groaned, not caring how she looked or sounded. She was completely in thrall to this woman, whoever she was, and how she made her feel. The fingers inside pressed more firmly, the thumb on her clit not giving her a second of reprieve as the Doctor moved faster, the slick sounds of their fucking the only noise besides their breathing and the sporadic cries falling from Yaz’s lips. She was sure she’d never been so turned on.

It didn’t take long after that; the Doctor had always been good at this and Yaz craved the bliss of release so much that she welcomed it with open arms, clinging onto the Doctor as her legs trembled through an orgasm. Unlike usual, the Doctor didn’t stop, continuing to fuck into her as Yaz felt the energy leave her body. When she started to slump to the floor the Doctor stopped merely to guide her safely to the ground and then a hot mouth was on her instead. 

“Fuck,” Yaz groaned, tangling her fingers in the Doctor’s hair and keeping her there as she ate her out. The intimacy of it took her hard-won breath away and when she saw the Doctor look up at her, mouthing over her clit determinedly, Yaz had to look away. It was too much. 

Three fingers pushed inside her and Yaz arched her back, taking as much as the Doctor was willing to give. The feel of the Doctor’s tongue flicking over her clit was almost too intense, joined by the sensation of lips encompassing her as she engulfed her with her mouth. The contrast between soft and precise pressure drove her to the edge quickly and Yaz barely noticed that she was pulling on the Doctor’s hair when she came again, stomach muscles quivering as she clenched around the clever fingers inside her.

“Out, out,” she panted, unable to take any more as she feebly pushed the Doctor away. The Doctor withdrew and fell to the floor beside her, breathing hard. After a moment Yaz turned her head to face her, finally opening her eyes. She could see her own arousal on the Doctor’s mouth and although she’d normally kiss it away, this time she hesitated. For a start she could barely move, but she also wasn’t sure what the Doctor was thinking and the thought gave her pause. The Doctor’s own eyes were closed, her chest heaving slightly as she caught her breath.

Several minutes passed like that, without a word, to the point where Yaz was just trying to figure out what to say when the Doctor surprised her, curling into her side and resting her head on Yaz’s shoulder in a reversal of their usual position. Yaz ran a hand through the Doctor’s hair in what she hoped was a comforting gesture, frowning when she realised she couldn’t see the Doctor’s face this way. She couldn’t help but think that the rug had been pulled from out under her feet but also perhaps the Doctor’s; the future was less certain, less bright than it had felt a few days ago. 

Yaz let her fingers drift aimlessly, soaking up as much comfort as she could from the simple contact. She couldn’t help but think they’d passed the point of no return. The Doctor’s body always felt so good against her own and she cherished it, memorising it. Yaz could feel her warm breaths on her shirt but then she could feel something warm spreading through the fabric. She couldn’t be certain but she was almost positive the Doctor was crying. 

Her hand froze but the Doctor didn’t move, instead tightening her hold around Yaz’s waist. 

“I love you, Yaz.” 

Yaz responded without hesitation. This much she knew to be true.

“I love you, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little piece set after the events of the second half of Spyfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. This has been percolating for a few days and to be honest it could probably percolate for a bit more and then silently go in the bin. BUT it helped me feel better about a couple of things in the episode and it also helped me figure out how I could write the characters now that we're in a new series (that feels so different from the last), so I figured I may as well share it. 
> 
> This is almost a companion piece to the first chapter and also linked to a chapter in Interludes (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18788464/chapters/47984257), both of which I would recommend reading first.
> 
> Finally, I have zero idea if this even works as a piece but it was super cathartic 🤷 it's probably terrible and after a few hours I'll go through my usual crisis and want to take it down so if you think it didn't suck please let me know 😅

The Doctor took a breath. Then another. And another, more slowly this time. The muscles in her jaw jumped as she clenched it, trying to school her face into an expression that gave nothing away. With her back turned to her companions - her family, really, wasn't that what she called them? - she could relax a little but even now she could hear someone edging closer and knew that this brief moment of reprieve was nearing its end. 

_"When does all this stop for you? The games? The betrayals? The killing?"_

_"Why would it stop? I mean, how else would I get your attention?"_

The Master certainly had her attention now. Her mind was still whirring, her nerves shaken after she'd seen the utter destruction wrought on Gallifrey. 

It had taken her more than a few hours to summon up the verve to even pick her companions up again. She knew that questions would be imminent and Graham did not disappoint. But she also knew that Yaz would have more than a few of her own; it wasn't particularly surprising given how often they shared a bed, but thus far, Yaz had been reluctant to pry. Of the three she seemed to sense most just how much was being hidden from her, and of the three she had the most to lose by being too inquisitive. The one time Yaz had asked about where the Doctor was from, the line of questioning had been shut down so quickly and efficiently it had left her head reeling. 

But Yaz's career was now hanging by a thread and a major decision loomed. The Doctor wouldn't hold it against Yaz for wanting to make an informed choice about her future. But would she choose to continue spending it with the Doctor if she knew who she travelled with? If she really, truly knew who she'd become intimate with?

The Doctor shoved her hands in her pockets, fingers twitching with the urge to act rashly. She'd always tried to be the better person, hold herself to her own standards, but the Master had a way of pushing her buttons and now she needed to push someone else's. 

"Doctor?"

Of course it would be Yaz. When the Doctor finally turned on the step, she was unsurprised to see that the others had gone, leaving the two of them alone.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," Yaz echoed her earlier sentiment but her tone was more light-hearted than before. The Doctor sighed. Silence fell. 

"Are you alright?" Yaz tried again, sensing that her attempt at humour had fallen flat.

"Of course,” the Doctor replied without thinking. "You know me."

"Do I? I'm not sure I do, actually."

Yaz put her hands on her hips, a new posture that instantly set the Doctor on the defensive.

“Are you alright, Doctor? You’re shivering."

Belatedly, the Doctor realised Yaz was right. She hadn’t been able to get warm but that was only partly because of the TARDIS’s faulty air-conditioning, which she had yet to fix. In an attempt to ward it off she’d put on a jumper but the coldness persisted. 

“You seem a bit shell-shocked, is all. That’s why I’m asking,” Yaz continued, eyeing her carefully. “What happened while you were gone? Was it that awful place?”

The Doctor knew exactly what Yaz was referring to but her mind’s eye instantly took her to Gallifrey. She also knew Yaz was waiting for an answer but she was being pressed and backed into a corner, and she didn’t like it. Yaz tried a different tack. It was like an interrogation and for once, the Doctor wished Yaz wasn’t so good at her job.

“You said you ran away, before. What were you running from?”

The Doctor could hear Yaz’s heart pounding with nerves and she was certain she could practically smell her apprehension, but she was clearly desperate to know more, to open the lid fully now that she’d got a glimpse inside. 

“What does anyone run from?” the Doctor bit out. She could hear the edge in her tone, despite her last-ditch attempts to temper it. 

“You’re not answering the question.” Yaz was undeterred, despite her unease. She had also literally cornered the Doctor on the steps, blocking her exit. 

The Doctor’s hearts were racing double-time, like a jackhammer, thudding dully in her chest. All she could think was that _his_ hearts did the same. Their shared biology was an unpleasant reminder of other ways in which they were similar: what she’d done when she removed the perception filter was a low blow. She’d stolen his TARDIS and stranded him in history. Was she any better than he was? A dark wave was incoming and the Doctor steeled herself. 

“What are you thinking?”

Another question. Yaz’s face was an open book, both curious and troubled. The Doctor bit back a sigh of irritation. Yaz had no inkling of how dark a turn her thoughts had taken. The Doctor saw her swallow hard, her pulse jumping in her neck. She felt phantom pressure against her own throat, realised she'd done something similar to Yaz, once, in the throes of passion. That was different. She didn't want to think too closely about now hate was also passion, of a kind. 

_Hate is always foolish, and love is always wise._

The Doctor stepped forward, dropping her nose into the crook of Yaz's neck and inhaling in an attempt to act normally. She loved to hold Yaz but now her hands were clenched by her sides, her body rigid as she breathed in the familiar aroma of Yaz's warm skin. Cautious hands crept into her hair, gently holding her. She could feel the single pulse beneath her lips. So human. So vulnerable. 

"Doctor?" 

She could feel the hum of the word against her mouth. One word that meant so much. She'd chosen it wisely. Everybody trusted a doctor.

"Do you trust me?" she asked, her voice hoarse. 

Yaz held her breath for a split second, just long enough to convey uncertainty. She wouldn't have hesitated before, but the Doctor wasn't surprised she did now. Still, that didn't stop it hurting a little. 

"Yeah. I do."

“I want you to kneel for me.” 

“You what?” Yaz pulled back a little, frowning enough that a groove appeared between her eyebrows. 

“You trust me, don't you?”

Yaz nodded, still frowning. 

The Doctor needed this. A restoration of order. The comfort of familiarity in the wake of upheaval. A reminder of the way things had always been between them and always would be.

"Kneel, Yaz."

She wanted to understand why he'd done it. What power he took from it. The Master had tried to diminish her, take away her power, but with Yaz she was always in control and now she needed proof that she still was. That despite all of her questions, Yaz still trusted her.

Yaz dropped silently to the ground. The moment she did, the Doctor realised, with a degree of relief, that she'd never understand him. Yaz's face looked odd from this angle, but even so the Doctor could see that she looked up at her with only love, compassion, and empathy. Of all things, empathy was what broke her. Yaz knew what she needed. What she wanted. Control. And she gave it to the Doctor willingly, no judgment or questions in her eyes any more but an inkling of understanding, of pure unfettered trust.

Yaz trusted her with her life. With her heart. Trust was implicit in everything they did and yet the Doctor didn't feel like she truly deserved it from the woman now kneeling in front of her. Yaz gave herself fully but the Doctor...she always held something of herself back. The balance was off, the Doctor's racing thoughts as off-kilter as their stances. This wasn't going to work, not like this.

_"Everything we were told is a lie. We are not who we think, you or I."_

_Who am I?_

Yaz was a blank slate upon which the Doctor could write herself anew.

The Doctor fell numbly to her own knees moments after Yaz, barely acknowledging the crunch of bone as her kneecaps encountered the ground with a thunk. Yaz made a sound of alarm but she paid it no mind, cutting it off with her mouth and stifling it before it could register properly. Distraction was the name of the game. 

But Yaz had always been perceptive, adept at reading the Doctor's moods even if she didn't quite understand them. 

"What did he do to you?" she asked as they separated. Finally, Yaz had realised the root of the Doctor’s problems.

The Doctor flinched at how close she’d gotten to the truth of the matter. What could she say? How could she even start explain such a twisted relationship? She didn't realise she was shaking her head until two warm palms cupped her cheeks, stopping the movement. 

"Do what you need to do. Take what you need."

Yaz knew she could be like this every now and again and they navigated it well, normally. But today felt different. A little unpredictable. The Doctor could feel her carefully crafted persona starting to unravel and she couldn't tell if Yaz was tugging at the strings or trying to hold her together.

"No."

"Why not?"

The Doctor wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to hold back. The fact that Yaz had offered herself so freely was hard to resist.

"Then let me."

Before she realised what was happening, the Doctor was being pushed back onto the step. It was a little uncomfortable but the thought left her mind when she saw how Yaz was looking at her, lip caught between perfect white teeth as she considered her next move. She still knelt between the Doctor's legs but now the Doctor was prone, silently waiting for what was to come. 

"I know I don't normally-"

"That's ok," the Doctor breathed. She found herself willing to be led, to be swept up in comfort and security and love. She may not have taken what she needed in one sense but Yaz was offering precisely what was required.

She watched through hooded eyes as Yaz removed her jacket and then her shirt, letting them fall to the floor. The Doctor pushed herself upwards, hands reaching for the clasp of Yaz's bra, but Yaz nudged her away, removing it swiftly and cupping her breasts with a soft sigh. Her eyes closed as her thumbs brushed over her nipples, teasing them. The Doctor's mouth fell open as she watched Yaz touch herself. 

“We still need to talk, by the way,” 

Yaz reached for the Doctor’s braces, sliding them from her shoulders and tugging on the zip of her trousers. Her fingers slid inside the loose material, pressing firmly against her damp underwear. 

“But right now I think we have other things to resolve.”

The Doctor did her best to help Yaz shed her boots and trousers but once they were gone she was being firmly pushed back, and then her legs were being lifted up and over Yaz’s strong shoulders. She felt entirely exposed, spread out across the steps in full view of anybody who might come wandering past. But Yaz didn’t seem to care; if anything she seemed keen to expose her to the room, strip away her layers and leave her bare beneath her mouth. 

Small hands held onto her backside as Yaz brought her head down, wasting no time with foreplay. They were past the point of that, the Doctor realised, her head smacking off the step behind her as Yaz used the flat of her tongue to lick the length of her. 

“Careful,” Yaz cautioned, looking up for a second. But the Doctor’s eyes were screwed shut, her attention completely focused on what Yaz was doing with her tongue. She was moving slowly, almost too slowly, drawing things out. It was borderline torture and the Doctor started to shift her hips.

A forearm came down across her lower stomach, pinning her in place as Yaz continued her leisurely pace. The Doctor’s own arms flew out, reaching for something to hold onto. As much as she wanted to guide Yaz, she knew she couldn’t. Her fingers grasped the edge of the step above her, knuckles turning white as Yaz finally focused on her clit. 

“Right there,” she sighed, muscles shivering as Yaz’s lips wrapped more firmly around her clit, her tongue repeating its maddening journey. She could feel how wet she was, hear the noises Yaz made with her mouth as she painstakingly devoured her. 

The arm across her abdomen pressed down as Yaz moved away, moving down and inside. The soft pressure made the Doctor long for something more but Yaz denied her. 

“No. I don’t want to fuck you like that.”

“Why?” the Doctor panted, finally feeling the chill abate as Yaz warmed her up. 

“I want to make this last,” Yaz panted, pulling away fully. She wiped briefly at her face but the Doctor could still see tell-tale signs of her own arousal. “I want to decide when you come.”

The Doctor groaned, a mixture of exasperation and anticipation as Yaz resumed fucking her with her tongue alone. 

The thoughts that had been plaguing her became distant echoes as the Doctor listened to the signals her own body was sending her. Although her mind never truly shut off, she could feel it quietening; the hormones fizzing around her circulatory system were a welcome relief, a biological escape that she had surprisingly little to no control over. Yaz did, though. Wonderful Yasmin Khan, driving her slowly but surely to a mind-blowing orgasm. 

She was certain Yaz’s jaw would be aching by now but she didn’t let up. Her cheeks were flushed; the Doctor could feel her ears pressed against the soft skin of her inner thighs, which she hadn’t realised she’d clamped around her head. But when Yaz returned to her clit and started to flick her tongue over it in a way that she knew would get her off, the Doctor abandoned her attempt to loosen her grip, crying out into the room as the ripples of pleasure started to become more consistent. 

She knew she was done for when Yaz finally looked up, her eyes conveying everything so plainly that the Doctor couldn’t look away. She made a conscious to let her own feelings show, to explain to Yaz how she felt without words, but then she was coming, Yaz’s tongue moving firmly against her as she pushed her back against the step, holding her in place as she claimed what was hers. 

The wave of endorphins that followed made everything soft. Even so, the Doctor was certain she didn’t imagine Yaz looking more beautiful than she’d ever seen her, hair mussed and breathless as she eased the Doctor’s legs from her shoulders. She winced slightly as she stood and the Doctor distantly realised she’d been kneeling on the hard floor that entire time. 

“Take me to bed.”

Yaz held out a hand and the Doctor took it, stopping briefly to shuck on her trousers but abandoning her boots for another time. 

Much later, once she’d returned the favour to Yaz several times over, they laid in the darkness together, sheets haphazardly draped across their cooling skin. It was calming; the Doctor was grateful for a moment of peace after the chaos. But she could almost hear Yaz’s thoughts whirring, even as she laid quietly with her head on the Doctor’s bare shoulder.

"Doctor?”

“Yes, Yaz?” She kept her tone deliberately neutral. The very least she could do now was answer a question. 

“What were you like? When you were younger. I imagine a young you running about the place, but...I know that's not who you were."

The line of questioning was unexpected and the Doctor laughed lightly, surprising both of them. 

"Well, young me was a bit of a trouble-maker, for a start."

Yaz moved subtly, kissing the skin under her cheek as if in thanks for the Doctor's honesty.

"Some things never change, eh? Tell me more."

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on Twitter @_mag_lex.
> 
> My fics are now on WordPress at maglexfic.wordpress.com. You should be able to subscribe there to all my new ones, since I won't be posting any new fics to Ao3 for the foreseeable future :)


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